Marked By His Sin

"Touch me, please" I begged as he held up my head and licked the nape of my neck, I could feel my veins popping from anticipation.

"Tell me you want me" He whispered into my ears as he bit my ears lightly. I let out a soft moan as I nodded quickly like a kid yearning for candy.

He grabbed my neck as he caught my lips with his, he grabbed my butt with his hands and squeezed it hard.

The first thing I felt was heat.

It traveled through me quickly like a flash, my body wanted more. With my lips locked on his, he grabbed my breast with his free hand and fondled with my nipples through my thin dress.

His hard cock brushed my laps lightly as brought tongue down to my hard nipples and licked it harshly. My legs were shaking as they could barely hold me anymore.

I couldn't see his face in the dark-only felt the weight of his want for me, the way he explored my body like a promise waiting to be claimed. My skin tingled, nerves lighting up one by one, every sanity left in me went out the window.

I should have been afraid.

Instead, my thighs tightened and I shuddered as ripped my underwear and his tongue licked my clit like he owned it, I felt liquid dripping from my already wet pussy.

A quiet sound slipped from my lips as he slid his finger mercilessly into my tight pussy. My body reacted shamelessly, heat coiling low and deep, awakening something fun and slightly painful. I yelped as he thrusts mercilessly but he didn't stop. He touched my body like he knew every secret I hadn't even admitted to myself yet.

I felt desired, chosen and owned.

"Alessia", he said my name as he put his fingers in my mouth. I could taste blood mixed with an unfamiliar liquid. His presence wrapped around me like a command, intimate and inescapable.

I threw my head back as he rubbed his hard cock against my clit, chasing sensation, desperate for more but it never came. The wait felt like torture, it felt delicious and cruel at the same time.

My lips parted as I let out moans, begging for more. I tried to have a glimpse of his face-

- then the world became black.

I felt a seatbelt biting into my chest.

Leather scorched beneath my palms.

An engine hummed steadily, dragging me out of my dream like a punishment.

I gasped, heart pounding violently, heat still echoing through my veins as i was snapped back into reality reality, my torturous dream was broken by the sound of rain and streaking city lights beyond the window.

I was in the back seat of my father's car.

Alive.

Breathing.

Eighteen.

I turned toward the rain-streaked glass, my cheeks looked flushed, pulse still racing. My reflection stared back at me-my eyes looked bright, lips parted and a stranger wearing my face.

"Are you comfortable back there, princess?" my father asked, catching my eyes in the rearview mirror.

I nodded too quickly before he could catch on. "Yeah. Just tired."

My mother reached back, squeezing my knee. Her touch felt so warm. "Big night for you, cupcake."

The word softened something tight in my chest, I smiled at her. The restaurant was replayed in fragments-the crystal chandeliers dripping light over the familiar faces polished with smiles directed towards me, white tablecloths pristine, laughter weaving through the air, I felt truly loved.

The thought of my birthday cake with eighteen candles brought an even wider smile to my face.

My red silk dress was clinging to my body, made perfectly for me.

My parents' smiles-love, pride... and something darker flickering briefly in my father's eyes.

"To Alessia," he'd said, lifting his glass. "May you always make us proud."

I smiled when he said those words.

I'd believed him.

Outside, the rain grew heavier, hammering harder against the windshield. The city thinned as we drove, lights stretching farther apart, darkness pooling heavily between them.

I checked the clock.

11:46 p.m.

Fourteen minutes to midnight.

I felt unease with the rain slamming the windshield like it was intentional. My fingers curled tightly in my lap.

"Dad," I said softly. "The rain's getting bad. Maybe... slow down?"

"I see it," he replied, easing off the accelerator.

The tires hissed over the wet road as water splashed over the windshield, everything felt wrong at that moment.

Then-

Headlights.

Blinding.

Right in front of us.

"Watch out!" my mother screamed.

Time stopped.

The impact was brutal.

I could hear the sound of the metal shrieking as the other car ran into ours. Glass exploded through the cabin, shards slicing the air. My body snapped forward, causing the seatbelt to crush the breath from my lungs as pain detonated everywhere at once.

The car spun countless times, tires shrieking, before slamming to a stop so hard my vision went white.

After what felt like hours, my eyes finally sprung open, and a sharp pain crawled up my belly as I struggled to drag myself out of the car. For a moment, there was only silence.

Until I could hear the rain, and burning rubber. My silk dress was covered in blood, and tears pooled down my face.

I tried to call out. The sound died inside me.

The car rolled again.

The ceiling collapsed. Gasoline flooded the air, sharp and choking. My lungs burned as I fought for breath, every inhale was shallow and desperate.

"Mom!" I sobbed. "Dad!"

No answer.

The car slammed down upside down. Rain poured through shattered glass, soaking my hair, my dress, my skin. The engine coughed once... then went dead.

The quiet that followed was wrong.

Pain pulsed everywhere. My chest screamed with every breath. I couldn't feel my legs. Panic clawed violently at my throat as I turned weakly toward the front seat-now hanging above me.

My father was limp in his seatbelt, blood dripping downward from his head.

My mother lay twisted unnaturally, her were eyes open but they looked empty.

"No," I whispered. "Please... no..."

Smoke curled through the wreckage. Sirens wailed faintly somewhere far away. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.

Then-

Footsteps.

A shadow appeared through the rain.

A man stumbled into view, soaked, breathing unevenly. When he saw the overturned car, he froze.

His hands shook.

"No," he muttered. "No, no..." he couldn't believe his eyes.

He staggered back, his eyes darting over the wreckage, the bodies, the impossible destruction. For a heartbeat, I was sure he would run.

He looked like he wanted to.

His chest rose and fell erratically. His hands clenched, trembling violently.

Then his gaze locked onto mine.

Alive.

Barely.

He rushed forward, slipping in the mud, dropping to his knees beside the shattered window. Rain plastered his hair to his forehead, streaking his face.

"Oh God," he breathed.

He froze.

Fear flared sharply.

He scrambled back, standing too fast, panic burning in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder.

He turned to run.

"No-!" My voice shattered.

He stopped.

Slowly, he turned back.

He returned, crouching beside me. His hands hovered, shaking violently, before gripping mine.

His hands were strong and unsteady.

"Stay awake," he said urgently. "Please. Stay with me."

Rain dripped from his chin onto my skin. My vision blurred, but I saw it-

A dark, irregular birthmark stretched along his arm.

Unmistakable.

A mark I could never forget.

Sirens grew louder.

His face was drained of color. His grip loosened.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, already pulling away. "I'm so sorry."

His hands slipped from mine.

He ran.

His footsteps vanished into the rain as darkness finally claimed me.

The last thing I felt was the echo of his trembling touch.

Alessia's POV

"Stop-Dad, stop!"

I jolted awake with a sharp gasp, my heart was hammering so hard against my ribs it hurt. My sheets were twisted around my legs, damp with my own sweat, my hands trembling as if they were still gripping something solid.

The dream clung to me.

Headlights blinding. Screaming metal. My father's hands on the steering wheel, shaking and my mother's voice screaming just before everything went wrong.

The sound of my phone buzzing had woken me up from my nightmare, thankful for that but I was wondering who was calling at midnight.

Unknown number.

I hesitated before answering. "Hello?"

A low voice answered, smooth and dangerous. "Alessia Moretti."

The voice sounded certain, commanding.

My pulse spiked. "Who is this?"

A brief pause.

"Someone who's been looking for you," the man said quietly. "And who finally found you?"

The call ended before I could say a word.

I stared at the phone, cold shivers running down my spine as my thoughts wandered toward the few people who knew my name-and even fewer who would ever use it like that.

I stood up when I heard the low growl of an engine, the unmistakable sound of a car moving. I staggered to the window just in time to see a black car pull away, disappearing into the night.

I held onto the window rails for support as my legs were shaking and my heart kept thumping as loud as it could.

The first thing I noticed when I unlocked the café that morning was the kind of silence that made my heart race so fast it could win a tournament.

The heaviness in the air only made it worse.

I flipped the sign to OPEN and stepped inside, the familiar scent of roasted coffee beans and vanilla syrup wrapping around me. This place had become my sanctuary over the years, a place where I felt safe, a place I could call mine.

I set my bag down behind the counter and glanced instinctively at the window, staring into the street for as long as I could remember, as if I were meant to see something.

Nothing unusual.

Still, the feeling lingered.

I felt like someone was watching me, the feeling was too heavy I dared not ignore.

I shook it off and busied myself with the normal opening routine-wiping down the espresso machine, lining up pastries behind the glass. But no matter how hard I tried to focus, my mind kept drifting back to the night before, and for the first time in ten years, I felt unsafe.

I couldn't stop thinking about the call, the man on the other end with a commanding voice, and the black car below my window.

Someone who's been looking for you.

My hands tightened around a porcelain cup without me realizing it.

"You're imagining things," I muttered to myself and continued with my daily routine.

The bell above the door chimed- sharp and sudden-slicing through my thoughts. My heart jumped before I could stop it. My hands nearly dropped the cup, but I held onto it.

A man walked in.

He was walking towards me walked with a pole-like height and a black suit made so precisely that it looked tailored onto his body. He wore no tie, just an open collar revealing a hint of tanned skin. With each step he took, my heartbeat quickened. I couldn't explain why-it just happened.

Not a customer.

That was the first thing my instincts screamed.

He wore an unreadable expression-too unreadable. His sharp, assessing eyes swept the room once before settling casually on the menu board.

And then-on me.

I felt it like a touch.

I pushed the unease aside and stepped forward. This was my space. My territory.

"What can I get you?" I asked, forcing a smile, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Espresso," he said. His accent was faintly Italian, smooth. "Double."

"Coming right up."

As I turned toward the machine, my skin prickled. I could feel him watching me-my movements, my posture, the way my fingers trembled slightly as I locked the portafilter into place.

When I set the cup down in front of him, our eyes met. I held his gaze deliberately, refusing to let him see my fear.

Something flickered in his eyes.

Recognition?

No.

Calculation.

"That'll be four euros," I said.

He slid a bill across the counter, his fingers brushing mine-intentionally, I thought.

I felt cold chills down my spine.

"Keep the change," he replied.

I nodded, pulling my hand back as quickly as I could.

He took the cup and moved to a table near the window, positioning himself so he could see the street. He stared outside as if uninterested, but I knew better.

My unease deepened with each move he made.

The bell chimed again moments later, and relief flooded me. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Sofia.

She burst in like a splash of color, dark hair loose around her shoulders with oversized sunglasses perched on her head.

"Please tell me you saved me a croissant," she groaned dramatically.

I smiled despite myself. "Always."

She leaned over the counter, lowering her voice. "You look like you didn't sleep."

"I didn't," I admitted. Sofia was one of the few people who could see through me. There was no point pretending to be fine.

Her gaze flicked past me, then sharpened.

"Why is there a walking Prada ad staring at you like that?"

I stiffened because I knew what she meant but I still pretended like I didn't have a clue.

"What do you mean?" I murmured.

She tilted her head subtly toward the window table. "Him. Black suit. He is giving serial killer vibes."

I risked a glance. Hearing it out loud made my fear real. I had been holding myself together until now.

The man was watching us openly.

My stomach dropped.

Our eyes met again-this time his lips curved slightly. Not a smile. Something colder. Like a smirk.

"I don't know him," I whispered.

"Yeah," Sofia muttered. "That's the problem."

The man stood abruptly, draining the rest of his espresso. As he turned toward the door, his eyes met mine one last time.

There was no apology in them.

No warmth.

Only intent.

The bell chimed as he left.

Sofia exhaled. "Okay. That was weird."

My hands were shaking.

"I need some air," I said, already moving.

Outside, the street buzzed with late-morning traffic, life continuing as if nothing had changed. But something had changed. I felt it deep in my bones.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my aunt before I could second-guess myself.

She answered on the second ring. "Alessia?"

"I think someone is following me," I said, the words tumbling out.

Silence.

Then, carefully, "What makes you say that?"

"There was a man here," I continued. "At the café. He watched me the entire time. And last night, I received a troubling call, this doesn't feel like a coincidence."

"You're sure you're not imagining this?" Lucia asked, though her voice lacked conviction.

"No," I said firmly. "This feels deliberate, like someone wants me to notice them."

Another pause.

"If you feel unsafe," she said slowly, "stay with Sofia. Don't go anywhere alone."

"Do you know who this could be?" I asked.

Silence again.

Too long.

"No," she finally said. "But if someone is watching you, it means you shouldn't be alone."

A chill crept up my spine.

"I'll call you later," I said.

"Alessia," Lucia added. "Promise me something."

"What?"

"Don't go home alone if it's late and please be careful, the city is filled with bad people."

The call ended.

I lowered my phone just as a black car rolled slowly past the curb.

Tinted windows.

The same car.

It slowed.

Paused.

Then drove off.

My heart pounded violently, just like it had the night before.

Because this time, I knew.

Whoever he was-

He was coming back for me.

Alessia's POV

"I'm not going."

I folded my arms, leaning against the kitchen counter sipping my favourite cup of coffee as Sofia zipped up her dress with the confidence of someone who already knew she'd win.

"You are," she said without looking at me. "Because you've been walking around like the walls are listening, and I refuse to let you disappear into your head."

"I'm fine," I lied.

The truth was, the last place I wanted to be was a crowded club filled with strangers, flashing lights, and too many unknown variables. Loud music wouldn't drown out the feeling crawling under my skin.

She turned, eyes sharp. "You haven't been fine since that man walked into your café."

My stomach tightened. "He didn't do anything. He drank his coffee and left."

"That's what worries me."

I looked away. "Clubs are loud. Crowded. That's not exactly comforting right now."

"Exactly why we're going," she countered. "No shadows. No silence. Just music, people minding their businesses, and some bad decisions." She said with a devious smile.

I hesitated.

Then sighed with my free hand covering my face. "One drink."

Sofia grinned. "That's my girl."

The club swallowed us whole.

Lights sliced through the darkness, music pounding so hard I felt it in my bones. Bodies pressed together-heat, sweat, laughter. Everyone was wrapped up in their own world, yet my unease only sharpened.

The moment I stepped inside, it happened.

I had that unusual feeling, and I tried to swallow the thick air that just built up in my throat.

Like invisible fingers trailing down my spine. Like someone had been waiting.

My breath caught. My body reacted before my mind could.

I lifted my gaze.

Above the crowd, behind smoked glass and dim gold light, a private section overlooked the dance floor.

And there he was.

A man stood perfectly still, like a painting brought to life.

Tall. Broad. Dressed in black that didn't look fashionable-it looked authoritative. One hand rested casually on the railing, his posture relaxed but dangerous, as if the entire room answered to him.

His eyes locked onto mine.

He didn't blink. Didn't look away.

Everything else blurred.

The music faded. The crowd dissolved.

It felt like recognition-deep and unsettling. As though my body knew him, even if my mind didn't.

I swallowed hard.

"Alessia?" Sofia shouted and shook my stiff body. "You okay?"

I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just-hot in here."

But I couldn't look away.

He didn't smile.

Didn't signal.

Just watched me like he had expected me to be here.

Then someone stepped beside him.

My breath stuttered.

The man from the café.

The black suit. The man who had his eyes on me the entire afternoon.

He leaned in and whispered something into the stranger's ear.

The man above stiffened-just barely. His jaw tightened, but his posture remained composed, elegant, controlled.

And suddenly, I understood.

That man hadn't been watching me.

He'd been reporting on me.

A chill raced down my spine.

"Drink," Sofia said, pressing a glass into my hand.

I downed it without tasting it. I felt warmth spreading through me, dulling the edge of fear and replacing it with something reckless.

I looked up again-bolder this time.

The man from the café glanced down and met my gaze.

Not openly.

Carefully.

Like he knew he'd been caught.

He murmured something again, then disappeared into the shadows.

The man above didn't move.

Didn't stop watching me.

"This place has bad energy," I muttered.

Sofia laughed. "You say that about every place with attractive men."

"This feels different."

I felt his energy around me before I saw him.

That presence-stronger now. Heavier.

A hand brushed the small of my back. Warm. Controlled. Deliberate.

I turned slowly, trying to maintain my gait as I was already feeling tipsy.

He stood too close.

Up close, he was devastating.

Dark eyes. Sharp jaw. A faint scar near his brow that only added to his danger. His cologne wrapped around me-deep, masculine, and sensual, I wouldn't mind sniffing him out.

"You shouldn't stare," he said quietly.

My pulse jumped, but I held my ground. "You shouldn't sneak up on people."

One corner of his mouth lifted. "You noticed."

"I always notice."

His gaze dipped-my lips, my throat, down to my open cleavage-before returning to my eyes. "You look... tempting."

Heat curled low in my stomach, and my nipples felt erect like someone was controlling them.

"I don't know you," I said.

"No," he agreed softly. "But something in you wants to."

"That's a dangerous assumption."

He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. "Danger is relative."

My fingers curled at my sides and my nipples felt tingly for some weird reason.

"Why are you watching me?" I whispered.

He straightened slowly. "Because the sight of you is not something I would willingly miss."

His words unraveled something inside me-something I didn't know existed.

"You sound like you know me," I said, forcing myself back to reality.

"I know of you," he corrected.

"That's worse."

A pause.

Then, quietly, "You should leave."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Tonight," he said. "Go home with your friend. Don't be alone."

The exact words my aunt had used.

Suspicion flared. "And why would I listen to you?"

His eyes darkened. "Because not everyone here is watching you for the same reasons I am."

Before I could respond, he stepped back, a slow, dangerous smile curving his lips.

"Goodnight, Alessia."

He vanished into the crowd, leaving heat, confusion-and need-

Dante's POV

"I think she knows she's being watched."

I didn't look at Luca as he spoke. I didn't realize he was back again. My eyes remained fixed on the spot where Alessia had stood moments earlier.

"I know."

Luca folded his arms. "She clocked me at the café. And tonight."

"You were sloppy," I said calmly.

"I needed confirmation."

"There was never any doubt," I replied. I had been watching her for years.

Silence stretched.

"Are you sure it was wise to show yourself?" Luca asked.

My chest tightened. "Enough."

"She doesn't know who you are yet," he continued. "But she feels you. You saw it."

"I did."

"And that makes her dangerous."

I turned sharply. "No. It makes her vulnerable."

"If she remembers-"

"She won't," I cut in. "Not yet."

I adjusted my cufflinks. "You're dismissed."

"And if she starts digging?"

My gaze darkened.

"Then," I said quietly, "I stop watching from the shadows."

The music thundered below us.

Alessia Moretti had stepped back into my world.

And this time-

I wouldn't let her walk away again, our encounter keeps replaying in my head, the warmth from her skin, her erect nipples showing through the little clothing she had on. At that moment, I knew she would be the death of me.